Blood
by AB-maybecrazy
Summary: „There was so much blood." He whispered. „Like, TOO much blood. I've seen enough dead bodies to know that that was definitely too much. And it was…" He stopped suddenly. „What?" Dean asked. „It was on me. My hands were practically soaked in it." Not my best summary, the story will be better. ;)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is sort of a crossover between Supernatural and Blue Bloods, but it is pretty encased into the Supernatural storyline, I merely stole the characters from Blue Bloods. However, if you are or intend to watch Blue Bloods, be warned of major spoilers for the Season 3 finale, possibly beginning of Season 4. As for Supernatural, this should be set somewhere in Season 2 between Episode 5 and 7.**

**No disrespect to the Whaley Museum, San Diego, I've never been there, I just wanted for the brothers to be as far away as possible from NYC and when I tried to think of a case in San Diego, I googled ‚haunted places' and fell on this museum. I'm usually really lazy, when it comes to research, but every once in a while, motivation hits me. I've also checked the ages of the actors, so if anyone is picky with real facts - I know, Will Estes isn't Jared Padalecki's age, but for the story: let's just pretend he is. **

**Again for the Blue Bloods fans: Jamie is already a PO, which is odd considering he went to Harvard before that and now I made him 23. So I've left out the Harvard part. You'll soon realize I've pretty much changed the whole Blue Bloods background story, but like I said: It's more Supernatural than Blue Bloods.**

**Alright, enough blah blah blah. Enjoy the first chapter and keep in mind, that this is just the beginning.**

**I DO NOT OWN ANY BLUE BLOODS OR SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No beta, all mistakes are mine.**

**1)**

„Well, that was a waste of time!", Dean commented grimly, as they stepped out of the famous Whaley House Museum, that had covered the papers with a bunch of „mysterious incidents" which turned out not to be mysterious at all. The strange voices, whistles, flickering of light and furniture falling over by themselves were nothing but a scam, to attract younger visitors, making them believe, that the place was indeed haunted. The only real thing that happened, was a cleaning lady suddenly disappearing. She'd last been seen entering the museum as she always did after it closed for the night and was never seen again. Until of course she reappeared in her hometown in Guatemala, where she had been sent back due to her non existing visa.

„Can't believe we actually fell for that." The older Winchester grunted, annoyed by the fact, that he had lost a whole night of precious sleep for this.

„Yeah, what are the odds of a famous place like that actually being haunted?", Sam sighed. „So, where to next?"

„The bar." Dean stated, as they reached his beloved Impala.

„Dean, it's not even noon." Sam shot back incredulously, looking at the sun, that's been working its way up to bathe California's population in sweat and sunburns.

Suddenly, Sam's head jerked down, his eyes squeezed shut, covered by his right hand, while the left held on to the roof of the car, as he swayed by the invisible force that had just hit his skull out of nowhere. Man, he hated those visions.

As always, Dean was at his side in seconds, keeping him from falling over. He didn't speak, knowing Sam wouldn't be able to answer, until it was over, yet he eyed him with concern. One day, he sometimes thought, those damn visions could easily hit Sam at the wrong time, like behind the wheel or in the middle of a hunt and cost him his life. However this one was over fairly quickly and Sam just blinked away the blurry vision that still lasted.

„You okay?", Dean finally asked, when his brother seemed to be lucid again.

„Yeah, I'm fine." Sam grunted, rubbing away the remains of his headache, before entering the car without another word.

_Yeah, right._ Dean thought. Sam sure as hell wasn't fine. He never was after that, but he waited to confront him until they were on the road.

Other than the other times, Sam didn't start the conversation, didn't tell Dean frantically to drive somewhere in order to prevent whatever horrible death would happen. This time, Sam just stared at his hands, his face crunched into wrinkles like a raisin.

„What was it?" Dean asked, when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

„Nothing." Sam answered. „Well, not much, at least."

Dean just looked at him a little confused, so Sam explained. „It was really short, like, more a picture than a scenario, you know?"

„And?" Dean pressed, when the younger didn't continue.

„And nothing, it's just…" He sighed. „I'm not sure what to make out of it."

„Well if you'd give me some more details, maybe I could help you with that. You know - two heads are better than one, and all." Dean started to become frustrated. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth, with Sam. Another Winchester thing, he guessed.

It took Sam another few seconds to finally resign and confide in his brother, his tone clearly hesitant.

„I saw this guy, wearing a uniform, he was lying on the ground, blood coming from his neck. He was dead."

„That's it?" Dean asked, not convinced. „Where's the weird part, like floating knives or strange phone calls? The connection to us and the demon?"

„I don't know." Sam said, but he knew he couldn't fool his brother, as he felt his frequent glances toward him, as if he was trying to read his mind.

„There was so much blood." Sam suddenly whispered. Dean didn't comment, trying not to be too pushy. „Like, TOO much blood. I've seen enough dead bodies to know that that was definitely too much. And it was…" He stopped suddenly.

„What?" Dean asked. Sam turned to face him, worry written all over his face.

„It was on me. My hands were practically soaked in it."

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again. He knew, what his little brother was thinking and to be honest, it was his first thought, too.

„Are you sure, that it was your hands?"

„Yes, I was looking down on them." Sam's voice was rising in frustration. All those fears of becoming evil like Max or Webber bubbling up. „What if I killed that man, Dean, what if the demon is fulfilling his plans for me?"

„Okay, first of all, we don't know what the demon's plans are. If he's trying to make you kill someone, which he won't be able to, well, that's what you got me for, and second of all, we don't know what happened to that guy, or what will happen. Maybe someone else hurt him and you tried to save him, huh?" Dean shot back, trying to silence his brother, before the guilt took over. „Maybe you can still save him." He let the words sink in and was satisfied, when Sam gave him a small nod.

„So what else did you see? Any clues to who this guy is, or where he lives?" Dean's voice was back to business, but he knew Sam wouldn't let go of his previous thoughts this easily.

„He was a cop." The younger whispered. „Wore a blue uniform, NYPD, name's Cruz, didn't get the badge number though."

„You got all that from a two-second-vision?" Dean asked a bit in awe. „Wow, you're really good at noticing details." Sam didn't answer. „So, next stop New York City." He stated, as they reached the highway. „Could take a while, though, we're kind of on the other side of the country."

„Well, maybe that's a good thing." Sam mumbled. „Cuz if I really will be responsible for his death, I should probably stay away from him."

„Hey.", Dean said, his tone now gentle instead of frustrated. He had to make his brother believe he could fight whatever was coming. He had to remind him of who he was, the thickheaded, knows-what-he-wants, stubborn younger version of their father. If anyone managed to turn him truly cold and evil, than Dean would loose all hope in winning this war anyways. „We may not know what's gonna happen in New York, but we know one thing for sure." He waited until Sam faced him. „This ain't the first time we prevented a death from happening, a vision from coming true. So let's go up there and save some more lives."

**I usually forget to mention that, but I generally suck at titles, so feel free to drop suggestions.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know there are no reviews, yet, but thanks already to those who favorited/followed this story. I didn't really plan this story till the end, so feel free to tell me, if there is anything you want or don't want to happen (except romance - I'm really not good at that). Comments of any other kind are also appreciated.**

**Enjoy…**

**I DO NOT OWN ANY SUPERNATURAL OR BLUE BLOODS CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No beta, all mistakes are mine.**

**2)**

Sometimes, Sam thought, the visions were mocking him. Sure, like Dean had said, they were able to prevent some of the things he saw from happening. However so far, for each person they had saved, two others had already died pretty much within arms reach. There was no regular timeframe between a vision or a nightmare and its realization. He had dreamed about Jessica's death for almost a week, before it happened. Their old house in Kansas, Jenny and her kids were attacked about two days after his first nightmare. Jim Miller had died the very same night he dreamt about it and his brother not even half an hour after Sam's first vision, literally right in front of them. It seemed, as if the timeframes were constantly getting smaller, yet they had saved Max' last crime although they were an hour outside of town. When they met Andy, they changed between several hours until the event and several seconds. There was simply no pattern, except for one. They were always close, when it happened. No matter how far away they had started, whenever they arrived, the vision had either just happened or just started.

So it shouldn't have wondered the Winchester brothers, that after driving for two whole days to get there in time, Officer Vincent Cruz died in New York City, when they were only about 2 hours out. Cause of death: exsanguination due to a gunshot wound to the neck.

The news had reached the papers in record time. Apparently, the place he died was ruled by a gang called „Los Lordes" who'd been giving the NYPD a hell of a hard time. Suspected drug ring, assaulting and suppressing locals who were not part of the gang and so on. What had seemed to be just another gang the police department had to deal with, and they truly had enough of those, reached a spotlight, when a young „Los Lordes" girl jumped from the roof of a building with her baby son, saying it was the only way out of this life.

„Jesus Christ." Dean had said, after Sam had filled him in. „Taking your own life is one thing, but your baby? What about the father?"

„Blue Blood of the gang, one of the leaders best buddies. And it gets better. The cop that died, Cruz, was born and raised at that place, worked his ass up to get out of there just to get killed in front of it."

„Sad story." Dean commented. „At least we know one thing for sure, and I don't want to gloat or anything, but I was right."

Sam just looked at him confused. „You didn't kill him." Dean stated. „And you weren't responsible for his death in any other way."

„Yeah, well we still don't know THAT for sure," Sam shot back, „and you were wrong as well as right." It was Dean's time to look confused. „I may not have killed him, but I couldn't save him either."

Dean sighed. „We've talked about this, you can't…"

„…save everybody, I know." Sam finished. „You don't have to constantly remind me of the good things, I see them. I'm not depressed or anything, just…" He sighed. „Apprehensive, I guess. I just have no idea of what's coming, other that it's gonna be bad." He waited to see if Dean responded. He didn't, instead there was an uncomfortable silence in the car. „And besides, aren't you the one who only sees black and white, doesn't believe in faith, but only _reality_?"

„Yeah, well, that's no fun anymore, when you agree." Dean answered without too much thinking.

They finally arrived New York City, the sun was already setting as they drove into the parking lot of the first rundown motel they found. Since all they needed were two beds and a bathroom, they were never too picky. So they entered room 171 under the names Ryan and Caleb Browning, twin brothers from Jacksonville, Florida. The names weren't important, they'd use others when they'd talk to some people, generally kept Sam and Dean as first names if possible.

„So what's the plan?", Dean asked, throwing his bag onto the bed, he just declared as his and then preceded to stretch his legs and back after the long drive. „Any use talking to his family? What's his story?"

„Uhm… his parents immigrated from Mexico in 1976, his mother works at a local dry cleaner, his father supposedly died in a drug bust, but his body was never recovered. Cruz got into trouble a couple of times, but mainly just throwing punches with the neighbors, nothing major. He was accepted to the academy after he finished high school and got him and his mum out of that neighborhood as soon as he could."

„You got all that from the papers?", Dean asked incredulously and Sam nodded. „Man, they sure know how to dig here.", he mumbled. „So basically, the family can't help us.", he then concluded. „We should try to get a hold of his partner. If this thing just happened and the guy was there, he's probably drowning his memories at the next bar, could be an advantage for us."

„Yes, but I'm not sure that's a good idea this time." Sam said, not looking up from his laptop, which he had set up on the little table by the dirty window. „Just checked the name of his partner. Does the name Reagan ring a bell?"

„As in Ronald?"

„No, as in Commissioner."

Dean just looked at him plainly, waiting for further explanation.

„Cruz' partner was Jameson Reagan, the police Commissioner's son."

„Wait, wait," Dean said, the lightbulb finally glowing. „That guy with the big ass mustache, with like his whole family in the force?" He'd only been in New York twice, but he remembered hearing the name on TV the last time they were here. „Didn't one of his sons die a couple years back?"

„He did, Detective Joseph Connor Reagan, he was Frank Reagan's second son, got shot in the line of duty about a year and a half ago and guess who was with him when it happened?"

„Little Jameson." Dean's eyes widened in realization. „Wait, wait, they let the brothers be partners?"

„They didn't." Sam answered. „apparently Joseph and his partner just took his brother along for the ride after his promotion, show him the job and things turned south." He sighed. „Kid was just out of probation. They found him covered in blood next to the bodies, completely shaken. After he recovered, he went back on duty, got partnered with Cruz and now this."

„Talk about bad luck." Dean said. „You think there's more to it?"

„I do." Sam stated, and turned his laptop around for Dean to see. „Check this out."

And Dean did, his eyes widening in shock. _October 28, 1983:_ _House fire in Bay ridge kills mother of four. Youngest child only six month old. The family of Police Commissioner Henry Reagan is devastated about the tragedy… _„I don't believe it."

Sam nodded. „I'm thinking the bloody hands I saw in my vision weren't mine."

„Well, then I'd say we find a way to talk to Jameson."

„Yes, and like I said. That won't be a walk in the park. A family of two commissioners, three cops and a high in state attorney? They'll have our names checked out faster than you can say blueberry pie."

„Uh pie." Dean sighed lovingly and Sam just rolled his eyes, regretting his choice of words instantly.

„Anyway, I'm thinking we should talk to someone else, before we try the kid. He had another partner before Cruz, his training officer, also Sargent of the Precinct."

„Anthony Ren-zu-li?" Dean read.

„Yup, found a few known cop bars near the 12. Precinct, let's go check it out." Sam said, while standing up and grabbing his jacket, ready to go as if the 42h drive didn't bother him in the slightest.

Dean just groaned, but didn't resist. „Alright, so who are we this time? Reporters again?"

„Yeah, seems like the best way. Better pull out your best fake ID's, we're talking to some of New York City's finest."

— — —

„Piss off!" A wave of beer mingled with common in-mouth-bacteria floated against the Winchester's faces before they even finished introducing their fake selves. As it turned out, this one of New York's finest didn't really care about the image he projected of the department tonight. His clothes were old, his hair unwashed, a panda bear look on his face… Granted, he was responsible enough not to carry his gun and badge while he was definitely wasted.

„Well someone's in a mood." Dean couldn't keep himself from snapping back. For a man known not to care about morals and manners, he sure didn't like being yelled at for no reason. His comment however, as it did often, earned him a ‚don't talk to police like that'-kick from Sam.

„With that shit going on around, I can afford to be." The drunk sergeant said quietly more to his beer bottle than to his guests. He suddenly seemed worn out and plain on frustrated.

„We've heard about what happened." Sam said sympathetically. „Must be hard, loosing a good man like that."

„It is." Renzulli said, looking up briefly, a little surprised by the sincere tone. In his experience, reporters didn't really care about the human factor in a story, just the facts. „And he WAS a good man. Cared for the people, looked out for his partner." Tony sighed. „That poor kid."

„By kid you mean his partner?" Dean asked, this time calmer as well. „We heard he tried to save him. How's he doing?"

By know Renzulli's surprise turned to suspicion. „What do you want?" He asked again in a defensive tone.

The brothers looked at each other. „We want to know what happened." Dean said.

„You already know what happened! The story has been spreading faster than the plague. You damn reported were practically waiting around the corner to get the first picture. Like scavengers, waiting for the next body to drop and then blame it on us."

„That's not what we want." Sam ensured him, but was quickly interrupted.

„Oh yeah? You wanna tell me that you actually care 'bout what happens to the people behind the badge? That you can actually understand, what it feels like to see your partner, your brother in blue, die slowly right in front of you and there is nothing you can do about it?"

„I do." Sam stated, effectively silencing the older man's rage. He felt Dean's eyes on him, undoubtedly recognizing the hurt in his little brothers voice. „I do know how that feels, I've been there before." He clarified, his eye contact with the sergeant never breaking. „That's why we want to know what really happened, we want to show the public, that you are more than the uniform, that you are real people who feel and grieve like everyone else. And then maybe people will see, that you are not the bad guys here, that you'll listen when someone needs help, and maybe, just maybe, someone will come forward." Sam finished his speech. It was followed by a long pause, but it seemed to have broken through the wall.

„Who have you lost?" Tony challenged, wanting to know if the boy really told the truth.

Sam looked down for a moment, trying hard to ignore his brothers stare. „My family and I were in a car accident a few month back. My dad didn't make it and the doctors said, my older brother wouldn't wake up again. All I could do was watch him, talk to him and hope that he could hear me." Another pause. „He made it though." He added, with a hint of a smile.

„Well Jamie and Vinny were like brothers, too." Renzulli started and the Winchesters took a seat. „Not at the beginning, they were quite different, if not to say opposite. Truth be told, I don't think they really talked much at first, but my gut told me they'd do great. And I was right." He paused, as if lost in the memory. Then he pulled himself together and looked at the fake reporters. „Truth be told, I don't know much more than was already said. With the whole ‚Los Lordes' thing and the suicide they both witnessed, I wasn't surprised, that they didn't hesitate to take extra tours. They put a call in for a robber they persuaded by foot, ended up in the Bitterman Housing area, which turned out to be a trap. By the time they realized that, bullets were raining down on them. Reagan got one to the vest and Vinny… Paramedics said with the amount of blood he lost, there was nothing anyone could have done. That didn't keep his partner from trying though. He was in shock, when I got there. Kept yelling at Vinny to wake up, wouldn't let go of him until we dragged him to the stretcher. I'll never forget the look on his face. So scared. I had only seen him like this once before."

„When his brother Joseph died." Dean stated, more than asked, when the older man didn't go on.

Renzulli nodded. „the boy hasn't spoken about the whole thing after he gave his statement, at least not to me. I know his brother Danny is on the case though, and he takes anything personal as it is, so I have no doubt he'll do whatever it takes to get those scumbags."

„Does he have any leads yet?", Sam asked. „Well.. I mean more than the obvious tie to the gang." He added.

Renzulli sighed, looking longingly into his now empty bottle. „Not really. CSI's couldn't find the bullet Vinny was hit with at the scene and of course no eyewitnesses - as always."

„Wait, the bullet wasn't in the guys body? He bled out from a graze?" Dean asked suspiciously.

„'s what the ME said." The older man defended. „It's what's bugging us all the most. The wound he received was minor, didn't even hit an artery, yet the blood must have been oozing like a waterfall, judging from the amount the poor boy was lying in." He sighed again. „Not that it matters anyway. As long as those bastards pay for it." He finished the last drops of his beer, tilting his head back as far as possible. Then he grabbed a few wrinkled bills out of his pocket and asked „anything else", before tossing them onto the tables and, after the brothers nodded, left the bar.

„So we have a police officer bleeding out from a little scratch and a witness fitting our psychic-profile perfectly." Sam said, turning to face his brother. He had a bad feeling, that this particular psychic wasn't necessarily one of the good ones. „Bet when we check the ME's report on his dead brother, we'll find some similarities."

„Maybe", Dean said, his gaze still lingering on the retreating Sergeant, before turning back to Sam. „Could also be mister yellow eye, taking away his loved ones for his ‚special plans'" As always, Dean didn't want to crucify one of these kids too early. After all, they had been wrong about Andy at first. „His boss described him as being quite beat up about all this."

„Yeah, or he could be incredibly good at faking it." Sam retorted. „Dean, what are the odds of two people mysteriously dying right in front of him? If it really was yellow-eye, he would have burned them somewhere on a ceiling." He sighed. „I'm guessing he's already twisted young Jameson's mind enough to make him a killer."

„We don't know that yet." Dean insisted. „Besides, don't you lawyers all say innocent until proven guilty?" He smirked, marching past his brother, who was rolling his eyes in annoyance, and out the door.

„Where are you going?"

„I'd say we pay the suspect a visit ourselves, get our own opinion on the guy." Dean said, walking backwards to see if Sam followed.

„What about his family?" Sam asked, once they reached the impala. „I doubt they'll leave him alone and they won't let us talk to him."

„Well," Dean started, before falling into the drivers seat and pulling out his little box of ‚masterpieces' „Maybe not to us, but to them." He handed two never used fake ID's to his brother, smiling proudly. „He won't have a choice."

„Best fake ID." Sam smiled back, as they pulled out of the parking lot and into the night.

**Genuine question: Is the length of this chapter ok, should the next ones be longer, or anything? I'm still kinda new at this…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay first and foremost: thank you so much, Kathy for your review, I'll try to keep the chapter length and swear I update as soon as possible.**

**Now here come the apologies:**

**I'm really sorry for taking so long, I kind of started too many different stories at once and now I always have to decide which one to continue. Then came christmas which is always stressful for me and so on. I wish I could tell you I'll update again soon, but classes start on monday, so… I'll do my best, though.**

**I am also sorry, if this chapter is a bit shorter than the las, it's an exception, I guarantee it.**

**Finally, this chapter is purely Blue Bloods, so you'll have to wait a bit for the „best fake ID's" -sorry Kathy.**

**okay then… hope you all still enjoy it!**

**I DO NOT OWN ANY BLUE BLOODS/SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No Beta, all mistakes are mine.**

„‚_s okay… it's okay Reagan."_

„_I've got you Vinny, stay with me, you hear me?"_

„_I'm okay, I'm okay…"_

„_Hey, HEY, Keep you eyes open, look at me!"_

„_s okay Reagan… I told you…"_

„_Vinny! No, no, no, no, you gotta stay awake man, you gotta stay with me. Come on, stop smiling."_

„_I told you… this is the end."_

Jamie awoke with a start, panting, breathing heavily as if he'd just been chased by a Lion. He tossed and turned, throwing the blanked of his bed in the process, while he tried to remember where he was. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he quickly calmed himself. Lying back against his pillow, he concentrated on breathing… in … out… his hands where shaking, so he clenched them into fists… in… out… he could hear his heartbeat thumping agains his ribs, so he took deeper breaths… in… out… he needed to calm down, get those pictures out of his head… in …out… he tried to think of other things, tried to concentrate on the here and now, not the past… in … out… he didn't want his family to hear him, they were already worried enough. He had wanted to be alone, had claimed he was fine, but his father could see right through him. They all did. With a whole family in the force, he had people saying ‚I know what you're going through' more than once. His father, grandfather, his brother - the only one left - his TO… But they didn't know. They couldn't know. And he couldn't tell them, because they wouldn't believe him. Hell, he couldn't believe it himself.

He'd tried to burry the memory the first time it happened. He tried to convince himself, that what he saw, wasn't true. That he was merely seeing things, due to adrenaline and shock. He tried to believe, that it wasn't his fault. And for a time, it worked. Nobody talked about it, nobody reminded him of it. He had been fine.

Until it happened again.

After all this time getting back on his feet, he was suddenly thrown back into the darkness. A darkness full of nightmares, guilt, confusion, frustration, unanswered questions… He could talk about the shooting, the panic and grief, but he couldn't talk about what really happened. If he did, there would be consequences. There would be mistrust, disbelief and blame. He would be blamed. Blamed for something he never wanted to happen, never wanted to do. If he could turn back time, change what happened - change who he was - he would give anything. But he couldn't. He couldn't change, what he'd done, he couldn't change what he was…

Shaking his head to stop those thoughts, Jamie stood up. His knees were shaking, but he ignored it, while he silently got dressed. His father had convinced him to stay in his old room. They all thought it was best, that we wasn't alone in a time like this, but he disagreed. He felt wrong, being touched with cotton gloves, being pitied and cared for. He didn't deserve it. And the weight of all of it on his shoulders suffocated him. He had to get out, get some fresh air, just for a while. And he had to do that alone. He knew his father or grandfather would insist to join him on his walk, so he was extra careful, while sneaking through the corridor. He took his time, descending the stairs in order not to make any noise. It seemed to work.

He slipped out into the chilly night with his shoes and his jacked still in his hands. He had scribbled on a piece of paper, that he'd be back soon, so his family didn't have to worry. And then he started walking.

He walked without a real destination, just followed his feeling. He kept of dark alleys, those were never a good sign, but he kept of big streets as well. He had no interest to enter the city. He walked a little along the river, breathing in the fresh air. He already felt calmer, but the thoughts stayed. He doubted he'd get rid of them anytime soon, yet he kept walking. It was better then staying in his room, pretending to be fine, when he absolutely wasn't.

Against his will, his subconscious still somehow led him to Manhattan and he realized, that he'd already walked longer then expected. It happened often, when he walked. The rhythmic movements of his feet always had a meditative effect on him. His thoughts just drifted away and when he thought he'd walked about ten minutes, it turned out to be an hour.

As he strolled through Manhattan, the calmness he was looking for was chased away by memories awaiting literally behind every single corner. Before he started as a beat cop, he had never realized how little he knew this city. He'd walked streets, building complexes and alleys he didn't even know existed. Walking through the city now, he suddenly realized how much he knew about this city. Next to all the light and noise and beauty it had to offer, he had seen the darkness, the fear and the desperation. A lot of his old school friends, though everyone of them had seen it coming, didn't understand how he could choose a life like this. They didn't know what it felt like, to help where no one else dared to intervene, to save a life. Jamie didn't see the darkness like others did. It wasn't a lost place you'd better stay away from. It was an opportunity, to make a difference.

However tonight, Jamie didn't feel this way. All those alleys, dumpsites and dark places. Tonight, Jamie resented them. He resented everything about them, hell he resented everything about this entire city. Why can't those in need help themselves for a change, why couldn't they all stop fighting and complaining about their lives, when they should be grateful to have one. Why can't the people be quiet tonight, the lights be turned of, the happiness… They shouldn't be happy, not when someone like Vinny couldn't be among them. He was the one that deserved happiness and light, he was the one that deserved to live!

Conveniently enough, Jamie's anything but loyal subconscious had let him to the place he tried to escape. The source of his nightmares, well… at least one of them.

He was standing in front of the three buildings of the Bitterman Housing Project, just a few feet away from the exact spot, where his partner and best friend said his last words. Words, that will forever be burned into Jamie's memories.

From where he was standing, he could just make out the faint dark spot indicating towards what had happened: A man bleeding out from a tiny wound in his neck, fading away in a pool of his own blood.

What that dark spot didn't tell though, was who caused it.

Tearing his gaze away from the horrific sight, Jamie's eyes fell one the middle building and he was struck by another déjà-vu. It was the building, where this whole thing started. This war, that had cost Vinny Cruz his life. The building Noni and her baby son jumped of, in order to escape not just this life, but any life possible for them.

They had tried! They had tried to talk to her, convince her, even beg her to help. To step of the ledge and leave the premisses. They had told her it was possible, Vinny had told her it was possible to leave and don't look back. But as fate had it, he had been wrong. Despite all his efforts, he was led back to his past and then brutally torn apart by it.

_I told you…_

When they got the call, that one night not to long ago, Vinny had said it would be the end. Back then Jamie thought it to be a joke, a typical Vinny-joke. Now he the young Reagan had to wonder, if his friend had truly seen it coming.

_It's okay…_

Had he felt, that this place, the one he escaped, the one that cost two desperate young people their lives already, that it would take his too?

_It's okay, Reagan…_

As Jamie dared to walk closer to that one spot he'd rather run away from, he was interrupted by a commotion coming from the building. He stopped to look up.

There was still light on in the window on the sixth floor and he could see a shadow moving rapidly, accompanied by the shattering of glass, crashing of furniture and faint words of terror.

Jamie's inner police officer screamed at him to run and help whoever needs it, yet he stood frozen. Should he really enter a building after that same action ended two peoples lives? Should he really be crossing the field where he caused his partners death? Maybe it was best to just stay away, to cover you ears, close your eyes and turn the other way.

And when Ricky Alvaros suddenly jumped through his window with a scream of pure horror, choosing the same way to die as his family, Jamie Reagan turned and ran.

_I told you this is the end!_


	4. Chapter 4

**I might have mentioned it in chapter one, I am a rather lazy researcher. I will say that I did some research here… and I didn't like the result so once again: NOTHING in here is accurate!**

**I DO NOT OWN ANY BLUE BlOODS/SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No Beta, all mistakes are mine.**

„So", Sam began as he exited the impala parked a little down the street from their destination. „What exactly gave you the idea to get fake ID's for witness protection officers?"

„What do you mean?" Dean countered, closing the driver side door and locking the car, before joining his brother on the sidewalk. „It's not a as big as homeland security."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brothers defensive tone. He had learned rather quickly in life, that the elder took certain things very personal. His ‚work of perfection' concerning false identification papers and credit cards was one of them. „I'm not saying they're not good, they are actually brilliant, but what made you get one of those? Did you and Dad ever get a case where you had to kill something in witness protection or something?"

„No", Dean said. „I just thought they might come in handy one day." They reached the destined driveway, leading to the mansion and made their way up the stairs. It was a two story building made of bricks with a conservatory obviously added later to the left of the house. The windows on the ground level, although big, were covered with thin white curtains, effectively blocking prying eyes, but not hindering sunlight from coming in. Unlike other properties in the area, this one had the luxury of a surrounding garden, separating the building from the neighbors and the street.

„Obviously," the elder Winchester continued before the other could answer, „I was right." And with that he knocked on the red painted door.

Almost immediately they heard movement inside, followed by footsteps approaching and the door suddenly opened revealing a tall - Sam-tall - gray-haired, heavy man with the most intimidating _big-ass-mustache _the brothers had ever seen. A moment of tense silence hung between them, as they stared at the giant figure covering the entrance and preventing the visitors from peeking inside, before the deep booming voice of said figure asked: „Can I help you?"

Struck out of their initial shock, the fake Marshals put on their best professional looks and Sam took the lead. „Commissioner Reagan, I assume?" He stated more than asked, his voice not betraying any of the wary feeling he had, lying to a man of his status.

„You assume correctly." Was the reply, his placid face not revealing any kind of emotion itself. „And you are?"

At that, the two men simultaneously, as they did so often, grabbed onto their inner coat pockets to expertly identify themselves as members of the United States Department of Justice, provoking just the tiniest frown on the commissioners pocker-face.

„I wasn't informed about a visit from the USMS _(United States Marshals Service)._" He said in a monotone voice. „Let alone to my private home." He pointed out not to pleased.

„Well we're not here for you Commissioner." The elder ‚Marshal' stated, secretly enjoying the power he held through a simple copied badge. „We're looking for your son, Officer Jameson Reagan."

As soon as he had spoken those words, another less than happy face, that had obviously listened to the conversation secretly, appeared behind Frank Reagans shoulder. They couldn't see the rest of him, as he was considerably smaller, but he seemed to be in his mid forties with only a half covered head of hair and a seriously pissed of expression. Yet the Winchesters payed him no more attention, seeing as he was obviously not their target.

„We've been told to find him here." Sam added.

„And where the hell have you been told that!" Mister grumpy snapped from behind the door, making his way around Frank, as if he had to protect him and the rest of the house - or better, who is in it.

„So you must be Detective Reagan." Dean stated with a smirk, effectively infuriating the other even further. It takes an over-protective older brother to recognize another this fast.

„Yeah, and who are you?"

„Federal Marshals."

„Oh yeah, let me see the badge!" The Detective demanded, earning a stern „Danny!" from his father. A gesture the Winchesters knew all to well from their own father, though more commanding than reprimanding.

Yet the brothers had no problem showing their fake ID's again, letting their new opponent process them under a scrutinizing eye. „Are you kidding me?", he replied, letting a little satisfaction show as he felt he gained the upper hand. „Those aren't real, you don't even have names on 'em." He laughed.

„Danny!" His father warned again, but was cut of by Sam. „The badge number will suffice." He said bluntly, not effected by the detectives accusation in the slightest. Years of practice had taught him that confidence was the key to a good lie. And the key to seem confident in a situation like this was not to show emotion. Of course it helped having seen his brothers little _masterpieces _before the action as to not be surprised by them like in Fitchburg. It was always reassuring when the equipment convinced him, that way he could easily convince others with it. _Damn you, Dean - why Bikini inspector of all things? _

„Oh will it?" The detective snapped back. „What you think you can just scribble some numbers on a piece of printed plastic and pretend to work for the government?"

„DANIEL!" His father finally had had enough. With a last glance, the powerful man silenced his son, before turning to the Marshals. „I am aware that your names are as sealed as the people you protect, but I don't understand what interest WITSEC (Witness Security) would have in my son."

„I'm afraid, we're not authorized to tell you. As you well know, the smallest detail of our assignment in the wrong hands can have rather catastrophic consequences." The taller one replied in his monotone manner.

„I am aware." The Commissioner answered, never breaking eye contact. „But neither my son, nor anyone else in this family have any connections or business with your agency and I fail to understand your reason to be here."

„Well your family may not have a direct connection to us, but to someone who does." Dean stated cryptically, letting the two opponents turn the statement around in their heads.

A moment of tense silence passed, in which detective Reagan proceed to glare at the Marshals rather dangerously, as if to stress his mistrust. It was in that moment that Dean Winchester caught himself feeling connected to this man. As much as the elder Winchester despised any kind of law enforcement officers - especially detectives - who, in his opinion, were merely show-offs pretending to know what's really going on, while they don't have a clue. Not to mention that they made his job a hell of a lot harder with all their interrogations and murder accusations. Yet this guy, in this very moment was not a detective. He was a protector, a bodyguard and most importantly - an older-brother. More so, one who cared. During Dean's school days he had seen quite a lot of siblings that were merely related by blood. How often had he heard family-members being ‚not that close' or having ‚nothing in common'. Even worse, some of them actually fought more than they talked. Each and every time, it had internally torn Dean apart to think of him and Sam not talking, living next to each other in the same house, not playing together, pranking each other, going on adventures together, teasing each other. More so, for Dean it was so very natural to teach Sammy everything there was to learn in life, from walking and talking, tying shoe-laces and riding a bike to self-defense and the art of lying. And most importantly, for Dean there was no question that he were to protect his baby brother with everything he had. And while he had never seen it in a mirror, he knew exactly what was going through Danny Reagans head right now. He could see it in his eyes: that man would literally kill for his family's safety.

Lost in their staring at each other, both older brothers barely registered Frank Reagan inviting the two secretive officers inside to talk privately. The old man had obviously found the connection between the two parties and accepted their need to investigate further.

They followed him through a short corridor leading directly to the living room where a long table was positioned with 9 chairs around it. To the left, as expected was the conservatory with a sofa and two couches, one of them occupied by an elderly gentleman looking up from his newspaper to see who had entered. If the guests would have continued walking straight forward, they would have ended up in the kitchen, but the commissioner stopped mid way, right next to the stairs.

„Does my son need any kind of legal defense advisor by his side?", He asked, putting his hands into his pockets, tilting back and forth a few times while doing so. His mask was a little unstable when it came to the subject of his distressed child. The last thing he wanted for Jamie, was any more heartache.

„Not at all, sir, he is merely a witness." Dean tried to assure. „We just need to clear him from any kind of connections to our case and you'll never see us again."

Still a little sceptic, Frank Reagan let out his breath noisily while he looked to the floor, before he directed the two intruders up the stairs to the first room on the right.

Once the two were gone, he turned to a fuming Danny and a very confused Henry Reagan.

„Who're they?" The patriarch asked equally sceptic.

„Federal Marshals, Witness Protection Service." Frank answered almost a little disappointed, as if it angered him deeply, that he was obligated to let them in.

„What do they want from Jamie?" Came the next question.

„They're not here because of Jamie." Danny explained, turning around to take a seat on the couch opposite to his grandfathers. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. This whole Los Lordes war had taken a toll on him. He had lost several nights of sleep, had broken his promise to a young girl he swore to protect and probably caused the shootout that cost Vincent Cruz, and almost his own brother, his life.

„They want to make sure, Vinny's death has nothing to do with his father." Frank continued, also making his way to join the other two. „He worked for a drugring that was making its way from Mexico to New York City through immigration."

„Right, I remember." Henry said grimly. „28 Officers died in the bust that _I _ordered."

„Yeah", Frank looked down at his hands. „Almost double as much of the gang died, including Vinny's dad -officially."

„Officially?" Danny raised his brows. „Meaning they declared him as dead, although there was never a body, while he is actually well and alive under a different name and severe protection." His tone not hiding any disgust at the unfairness in that.

„There is nothing connecting Los Lordes to the Mexican Cartel, but I guess USMS wants to make doubly sure." Frank concluded.

„Then why not talk to me?" Danny asked, underlining it by pointing to himself. „I'm the lead detective, I know most about those goons and the shooting."

„Never the less, you weren't there." Frank stressed and in doing so, ending the conversation, so the three eldest family members just sat in tense silence, while their youngest was interrogated in the room above their heads.

— — —

At first glance, there really didn't seem anything evil about the kid, Dean noticed. He was about his height, sporty figure, with short sandy hair and an innocent, tired look on his face. The nickname _Jamie,_ fit him about as well as Sam's nickname to him. At least in Dean's opinion. Which only hardened his opinion, that the kid was more a victim in all this, than a monster.

However, Sam didn't think so, which became more than clear as soon as he started interrogating the poor guy, who got more irritated by the second. Irritated and… was that guilt?

_Huh,_ Dean thought, _maybe he does know more than he's letting on._

So far, their questions had been skillfully dodged earning them nothing more than a reproduction of the story, seargant Renzulli already told them. To keep up their charade, the Winchester brothers had made sure to ask whether he knew something about Vinny's father, which, as they suspected, he did not. But at least he wasn't as defensive as the rest of his family, when the Marshalls explained their case. Very vaguely, of course. The powers of the word ‚classified' in law enforcement equaled the effect of a demon trap to a demon. Nothing can be done about it.

„So, you're saying on an open field with no pedestrians around, you didn't see any of the shooters?" Sam asked for at least the second time, his tone icy, dripping with venom, daring the other to deny his underlying accusation.

„No!" Jamie insisted fiercely. „It was all quiet and by the time we figured out it was a trap, I was blown backwards by a bullet to my vest."

„And then you went for cover first? Leaving your partner behind?" Sam spat.

„What was I supposed to do?" The other defended, his voice rising with every word and he was one more accusing question away from jumping off the bed, he was sitting on. „The shots were raining down on us, I even got a reprimand by my CO for running back in to pull my partner out." At that his voice broke, his posture sank back, as if the sheer mention of his late friend drained him of all energy. Truth be told, as fit as the guy may look, he was damn tired and worn out: dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, hands shaking slightly… He looked pitiful. Even more so, after Sam's little performance and Dean decided it was time to intervene.

„Alright, listen." He started, drawing the attention of the younger men. „We're not interested in whether you followed protocol or not. We get that it must have been hard for you, but you gotta understand" he took a breath to stress his point. „For us it seems kinda strange that your partner bled out from a scratch to his neck although you claim to have applied first aid." He left the unspoken question sink in.

Jamie looked back at him, his Adam's apple going up and down slowly, as he tried not to give away any kind of answer. Yet in vain, as the guilt and sadness were written all over his face.

„Not to mention, that it's not the first time that happened." Sam threw in, his tone silent, but still hard.

Jamie's head snapped towards him. He understood exactly, where this was going. „I didn't hurt any of them!" He stated in a shaky voice, unshed tears brimming in his eyes.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, silently agreeing that they were on the right track. „We didn't imply that you hurt them, Jamie." Dean said, trying to sound compassionate but still placid.

„We just asked if maybe something else happened.." Sam started, stepping on the thin ice, that would lead to their actual reason to be here. „… that prevented you from helping them."

Jamie opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself. His gaze went down to his hands, looking at them in shock and disgust. much like Sam had, after the vision. „You wouldn't understand." he whispered.

The brothers exchanged one last glance, Dean being rather satisfied, that he had been right, that not every psychic kid is necessarily evil, and they took a seat next to the boy.

„Try us." Dean said, reassuringly. „You know we're not allowed to talk to anybody about this interview and anything unrelated to our case will never appear in any reports. Those are our rules, so you might as well use the chance."

The young Officer still looked hesitant, but the wheels in his head were turning. It was like one could actually see the arguments for and against talking to them turning in his head. The look on his face, the walls he obviously built up, thinking that his problems were his own business, that nobody would understand him and that it was all his fault, those were all thoughts both Winchesters knew just too well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jamie's resolve crumbled and he opened his mouth to talk, just to stop as quickly, when he heard the booming voice of his brother downstairs.

„He WHAT?"

Immediately, Jamie jumped up and hurried down the stairs, where Danny was pacing angrily while on the phone.

„Head up to the scene, I'll catch up with you later." he finished and turned his stern expression towards the stairs.

„What happened?" Jamie asked, not daring to get off the last step, as if he had to keep his escape route clear.

„Gonzalo Diaz, the father of Noni's child, he killed himself." Danny stated, his gaze scrutinizing his little brother as if he knew the younger was hiding something. „Jumped out of his own window, after claiming his son came after him from the dead." As soon as he'd spoken those words, he noticed the fake Marshals looking at each other as if knowingly. His hard look immediately turned to anger. „Are you done here?" Danny spat. „Cause if so I'd like you to get out and not eavesdrop on matters of MY investigation."

„Don't worry, we were just leaving." Dean assured, imitating the detectives look and not breaking eye contact until he had to turn for the door. They left without any other word, leaving the Reagan brothers in their thick tension.

„You're thinking what I'm thinking?" Sam asked, when they had reached the safe distance of their car from the house.

„Yep!" Dean said, slumping into the drivers seat. „We've got another case in town."

**Tadaa! So I was thinking, witness protection can't be all that protective, when people know who are protecting the witnesses. So I made up that their badges didn't need to have names or at least not their real ones and therefor they can't be checked and the Police Commissioner doesn't have Marshal's clearance. To me, that made sense and sounded brilliant, for you I simply hope it is not traumatically disappointing.**

**Also, for those who forgot (like I did, cause I haven't watched Blue Bloods in a while) Noni is the name of the jumper and the name of her boyfriend and child's father was made up because I couldn't remember it… sorry**


	5. Chapter 5

**I DO NOT OWN ANY BLUE BLOOD/SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No Beta, all mistakes are mine.**

While the Winchester-brothers decided to do some digging around their potential second case by going through the most informative local newspapers about the last suicide, the Reagan household was once again filled with a thick tension, caused by the exact same matter.

„What _the hell _were you doing there in the middle of the night?" Danny Reagan asked his little brother who had taken a seat on the very step he'd been standing on, watching the elder pace back and forth angrily.

„Doing where?" Jamie asked, feigning innocence, although he knew it would be futile.

„At the CRIME-SCENE!" Danny half yelled, stopping his movements to lean into to his brother threateningly. „What were you doing at the crime scene in the middle of the night?"

„Nothing, I wasn't there." The younger lied, earning a more than stern look from his brother, whose voice became so sharp it made the Officer shrink back a little: „I have several witnesses who claim to have recognized you and surveillance footage we placed after Noni's death that caught a guy, matching your description _running away _like a fugitive." Danny retreated his face from his little brothers personal space and continued in a more mild tone. „What were you doing there, Jamie?"

„I was just going for a walk." Jamie shrugged, looking at his hands.

„Just going for a walk? At the Bitterman houses, the place where three people died of suicide within a couple of days, the place where _your partner_", at that Jamie winced noticeably, „was shot in the neck, that's were you went for _a walk_ in the middle of the night?" The detective asked incredulously. When he received no answer, he stepped further back, pinching the brick of his nose in frustration. He knew he shouldn't go all accusingly on his little brother, after what the younger had been through. There was no doubt in his mind, that Jamie had no bad intentions doing whatever he was doing last night - hell, he didn't think Jamie was capable of having bad intentions - but he was still rather disappointed that his brother really did go there at the time of Diaz' death. When his partner had first informed him, he was certain it was a mistake. But his brothers avoiding behavior, his unusual vague and fast answers quickly undermined this conviction.

His and his fathers job just got a hell of a lot more difficult.

„Ok." Danny started calmly, trying to remain professionally, he crouched down in front of Jamie and put on a sympathetic face. „So you went there for a walk, that's ok, you went back to the place where your partner died, you wouldn't be the first to do that for closure.", he said, receiving no answer - verbal or non-verbal - from his brother. Jamie knew, what his brother was doing. He wasn't just trying to make him feel better, which was a futile attempt anyway, but he was also subtly telling him, what Jamie was to say should he be brought in for official questioning. Play the victim, make them pity him. The thought alone made his stomach revolt. He didn't want pity, didn't need it. Didn't deserve it.

But Danny kept on talking, oblivious to the dark thoughts circling in his little brothers head. „Did you see Gonzalo Diaz jump out of his window?"

Jamie didn't answer right away, his mind was going back to petrified scream of a flying figure before it hit the ground with an ugly thud. „Yes." Jamie breathed, knowing there was no point in denying it.

„But you didn't go and see if you could help." Danny stated, unable to hide the disappointment, if not to say embarrassment at the thought of his brother running away like a coward, possibly letting a man to die.

When Jamie heard it, heard that particular tone, his face grew cold. He looked dead into Danny's eyes and stated: „I think I have seen enough suicides, to know that he didn't survive!", he hissed. „So yeah, I ran away, because the last few times I tried to help, people died." He stood up, Danny following suit, yet still looking up at his little big brother who somehow turned from vulnerable and pitiful to angry and cold. „Maybe New York is safer without me on the streets!" With that Jamie Reagan turned and walked back into his room, slamming the door shut and leaving his incredulous and very worried brother watching his retreat.

— — —

„Alright, so this Noni girl killed herself, murdering her son in the process and a couple of days later the father claims to see his child's spirit in the same building where it all happened." Dean summarized, unpacking his freshly bought burger and taking a well deserved bite.

„Yeah and then he freaks and jumps himself." Sam concluded, his eyes still glued to his computer screen, apparently immune to the headaches his brother got after several hours of research.

„That, or the little guy did it himself." Dean munched, at which Sam looked up in disbelief.

„A one-year-old toddler?" He asked ironically.

„Yeah, why not." The elder replied, licking some gravy from his fingers. „Remember the haunted painting in New-York? The girl wasn't even ten and murdered two families even before she died."

„Still," Sam chuckled, „a scudding baby is quite far from a killing primary school girl. I think the father really did it himself. Even the biggest scumbags can get emotional every once in a while."

„Okay so, the baby doesn't make it to La La Land and now he's just chilling out at his home? Does that mean we still have to finish him?" Dean asked, having devoured his burger already, a phenomenon Sam long ago stopped to be impressed by.

„I don't know. If the kid was just looking for his daddy, he might be at rest already." Sam mused.

„Speaking of kids," Dean started, standing up to throw some paper towels from his lunch in the bin, „we should find another way to talk to our psychic-guy, find out what really happened."

„Think he still wants to talk to us? The guy's pretty closed up."

„I think he's terrified." The older brother sat back down. „He can't make sense of what's happening. On any other case, I'd say I'll talk to him after your whole bad cop performance", at that Sam rolled his eyes, „but I don't think I know what he's going through as much as you do." He looked at his little brother, seeing the faraway look in his eyes and knowing, that Jamie Reagan wasn't the only one still afraid. But after a while, Sam nodded. Dean was right. Whatever that kid went through, Sam would be the closest to knowing what it feels like. Besides, after Andy he knew that he was immune to psychic mojo and Dean was not.

„Alright then," Dean said, grabbing his brothers burger after deciding he was still hungry, „you go find a way back into that house, I'll go to that housing project, see what I can dig up on either case."

He took a healthy bite off the burger, before looking back at Sam innocently. „Were you gonna eat that?"

Sam just rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he wondered, how a man could care so much about others, that he would risk his life for them without asking for anything, and yet it was impossible to share his lunch equally with his own brother. „No." He finally replied, closing his computer and grabbing the car keys with satisfaction. If he couldn't get the burger, he'd at least get the car.

— — —

As he reached Bay Ridge, Sam slowed down the car so he could peek through the window, to see if the house was empty. With a little luck, the rest of the Reagan family was at work, making Jamie more willing to talk. He thought he saw the shape of a person through the thin curtains, but nobody else. Still, he made his way around the rest of the building and sure enough, the man he was looking for was standing in the open garage with his head in an old Chevelle.

As per usual, whenever Sam saw an old classic car, he'd automatically have Dean's voice in his head, telling him what kind of car that was and ranking it, whether it made the top ten of coolest cars in his book. His Baby was of course unbeatable number one. Sam had to chuckle a bit. Throughout his life, whenever his brother wasn't there, and that included the two years he spent cut off from his family in Stanford, he'd still think of him more often than not. Without his control, he'd know exactly what Dean would say in that moment. It usually annoyed him, especially in college, mainly because he tried so hard not to miss him. He should have known it wouldn't work after growing up with him in crappy motel rooms for 20 years. Seeing Jamie now and knowing what he'd lost took him back to the couple of times he thought he'd loose Dean and he wondered, how he even made it two whole years without Dean's real voice.

Sam didn't bother parking the car further away this time. Still he double checked to see, if the other was really alone in that garage.

„Wow," Sam started, startling the young Reagan who looked at him a little warily. „That's a nice car."

„Thanks." Jamie said a little unsure, wiping his oil stained hands with a dirty cloth.

When nothing else came, Sam simply continued. „I don't know so much about cars myself, but…" at that he pointed at the impala across the street, „I know my brother'd be all over yours."

„You have a brother?" Jamie asked a little dumbfolded at the sudden kindness of the previously harsh US marshal.

„Yeah, he's a little older, although he doesn't always act like it." Sam smiled.

„Sounds familiar to me." Jamie smiled back and after a moments contemplation decided that it wouldn't hurt engaging in some harmless conversation. „My brother Joe used to have it. He'd be pissed seeing what I did to it."

„Tell me about it, when I learned how to drive, Dean would get half a panic attack every time I went to close to a lamppost or something." Sam joked. „What'd you do with it?" He nodded at the car.

Jamie followed his gaze before looking back. „Mistook the gas pedal for the break."

„Ouch." Sam winced.

„Yeah, I got away with a concussion, but the car wasn't so lucky. I'd like to think it made me a better driver though." Jamie concluded as he leaned back in, trying to fix… Sam had no idea, but it seemed to need fixing. „Of course Danny wouldn't agree." he continued. „Still calls me a grandma whenever I'm behind the wheel."

Sam chuckled again. „So I'm guessing he's the oldest?" Jamie nodded. „Seemed kinda overprotective, when we tried to enter your house."

„Yeah, that's all Danny. Thinks he can protect us form the world." Jamie half whispered, his voice momentarily tense again.

„Well some things are beyond our control." Sam responded wisely. „Something I had to accept, when…", he paused, seeing Jamie look at him from the corner of his eye, „my girlfriend died about a year and a half ago."

„Sorry." Jamie said sympathetically. „Was she on the job?"

„No." Sam chuckled, understanding full well, what _the job _was, „she was still in law school, when our apartment caught fire." His smile vanished. „She didn't make it out."

Again, Jamie expressed his condolences, but didn't continue the conversation. It had taken an uncomfortably emotional turn and his visitor was still too much of a stranger to share anything too personal. Therefor he was glad for his current occupation and simply turned his attention back to the car, avoiding some awkwardness.

„It's funny," Sam started again, though his tone showed that he was anything but amused. „Despite what anyone tells me, I still feel like I let her down." He said, looking at his feet, yet again knowing he had the other's attention. „Like it's my fault."

There was a moment of silence and Sam could practically hear the bricks of Jamie's wall tumbling. Practically in slow-motion, the officer retreated his hands from under the hood, grabbed once again for the dirty cloth and then turned around to sit with the back against his car. He couldn't explain it himself. Jamie had very successfully hidden the true story - well, stories - form his family, the people he trusted the most. Then this stranger comes along and his resolve crumbles. There was something about this unbelievably young Marshal, that seemed almost familiar. Like someone he should remember from somewhere. Or maybe he just reminded him of somebody. God knows, Jamie was surrounded by a lot of trustworthy people throughout his life.

Sam Winchester took a seat next to the other, feeling like he'd finally come through to him.

„I didn't mean to." He stated lamely, regretting those words instantly, as he reminded himself, that he was talking to an officer of the law with the power to arrest him. „I don't really understand what happened, I don't know how I did it, but I know i did _something_", at that he looked at his hands as if they were broken tools, doing more harm than good, „that made it all worse." Jamie knew he didn't make a lot of sense, but the marshal didn't intervene.

Jamie looked at him: „They were okay." He said, tears forming in his eyes. „Vinny, Joe, his partner. They were fine, they were talking, just minor injuries, but I." He turned his head to look at the road, anywhere but Sam. „I just tried to help them, and then they… I just touched them and…" He took another breath, going through his hair in desperation.

„What?", Sam asked a little impatiently. „Then what?"

Jamie turned his head, his face, his eyes screaming for help. For answers. Dean was right, the kid was terrified. And Sam knew exactly how he felt. He just hoped, Jamie wouldn't close up right now.

„You can tell me." Sam pressed. „Trust me I have seen so many unbelievable things in my life, what ever happened, I promise I won't tell." Another moment of silence. „You can trust me!"

„We appreciate that!" Came a stern voice from behind the car. Both boys jumped up abruptly, neither having heard the Reagan patriarch entering the garage through the adjoining door. For a man over his seventies, Sam noticed, he sure could look terrifying. The young Winchester remembered having read about Commissioner Henry Reagan's admirable service in Korea. In fact, Jamie Reagan was the only male of the family without a military background. It seemed like the youngest Reagan showed more and more similarities with the youngest Winchester. Growing up without a mother, over protective but rather demanding family, military ancestors, family business, yet a touch of isolation from said family due to differences. To cut it short, they were both the family's freaks.

„I appreciate your empathy, marshal, but I can assure you my grandson is surrounded by the best company to go through this trauma." The elder said sternly, hinting with every word his distrust towards the visitor. His commanding and intimidating tone rendering both youngsters silent. „As I understand you have finished your official interview the last time you talked to him, so as long as there were no knew developments, I'd welcome it if you wouldn't disturb us anymore."

„Of course, sir." Sam nodded, offering Jamie his hand and shaking it several seconds, while he thanked him for his cooperation and wished him all the best, then left with one last glance towards the oldest Reagan.

„You okay, Jamie?" Sam heard him say, as while walking away, regretting his decision to park so close to the house. He doubted someone like Henry Reagan would not remember the car of a man he obviously didn't trust.

„I'm fine." Jamie said out of habit, his mind focusing on the small piece of paper, his visitor had left in the palm of his hand.

„I've known a lot of marshals in my career. That kid sure as hell doesn't look like one." Henry mused, still following the intruder's steps as he entered a black Chevy impala, Kansas license plate. One he'd let Danny check asap. The short part he'd heard of the man's conversation with his grandson left the veteran with an uneasy feeling. There was more to those new guys than they let on.

„You know I would've send him away on my own if I wanted to, right?" Jamie all but snapped, feeling more than offended that his grandpa was eavesdropping on him. As if he needed a babysitter. While he loved his family, he truly did, situations like this showed Jamie just how many they were. And that privacy was not always amongst a Reagan's privileges. After Vinny, they all acted like he'd break if left alone. None of them noticed, when he just needed some space. Needless to say, that it wasn't the first time that he got a little gruff towards them, almost Danny-like. So it didn't come as such a surprise anymore and Henry didn't comment on it, when his grandson stomped past him with an angry „I can look after myself" and went into his room, the little piece of paper clutched firmly into his hand.

— — —

New York City was something alright. Not just did it take Dean about an hour form that crappy motel just outside the city to get to the crime scene, but that grumpy detective and his sexy Latina just wouldn't leave. On his normal gigs which more often than not took place in smaller towns, the officers assigned to the case took one look at the crime scene, swept it for prints, talked with the usually few eye witnesses and then left to wad through all the paperwork. This guy however quite literally left no stone unturned. But then again in his long career of hunting, Dean couldn't remember any case involving gang violence. The many witnesses in all the buildings didn't exactly stand in line to testify, he guessed.

Standing in the opposite side of the street, rather far as not to be recognized, Dean regretted their current choice of law enforcement officers. His body itched to just march over there, pull out his FBI badge and demand all the information on the case. But as Sam had warned multiple times and as Dean would guess from his frequent encounter with the man, Danny Reagan wouldn't be that easily fooled. In fact, if Dean were in that guy's shoes, he'd probably tell whatever agent came along to screw someone else's case.

So Dean relented to the passive way of gathering information by simply observing from afar, until that meathead left and he could perceed with his own investigation.

From where he was standing, he could see a broken window, covered by some crime scene tape, on the fifth floor. So fifth floor, far left apartment. With that information gathered and Dean never being the patient one, he started walking around the entire block to get to the backdoor. Checking that the lead detectives were indeed still outside, talking rather heatedly with what Dean could just guess were fellow gang members, the hunter made his way inside the building. Luck being on his side, there weren't all too many officers covering that part. He met the first one coming down on the stairs, but he merely looked at him strangely, obviously following more urgent orders, so it wasn't until Dean reached the apartment, that he had to pull rank. Expertly showing his Marshals badge, and walking casually passed the patrol guides. Only one guy at the door demanded to know what he was doing, but he as well stepped aside, when Dean explained that he was on very official yet very classified business, but he would of course do his best not to hinder the investigation in any kind. „After all," he had said with a smirk. „We're all on the same side here, right officer?"

Once inside, Dean quietly stepped around the last few CSI's left, who were probably wondering, why they were investigating a clear suicide, and secretly pulled out his own equipment. And sure as hell, the place was filled with electromagnetic frequencies like skittles in candy shop. He took a quick look outside to confirm that there were no electrical wires too close to the building to mess with the reading. „So there really was something after you." Dean whispered to the dead guy. It was a habit he'd picked up while Sam was at Stanford. He'd always known his father preferred to hunt solo, whether it was to keep them safe or simply because he was a massive control freak, Dean didn't know and quite frankly, didn't understand. If there was one thing he gave all the cops credit for, is that they all worked in teams. With dangerous jobs like theirs it was always good to have someone who has your back. Not to mention help you with the investigation, the research, share some theories. Hunting alone, Dean was always a little unsure about his results and very much preferred to discuss them with someone as to make sure they'd agree. After all, two heads were better than one. It was one of the reasons he went to get Sam. After their father went missing, he had felt in his gut that it would be a longer search. And the thought of wandering around the country alone, facing all those monsters by himself and maybe dying without anyone finding out or even caring, scared him more than he liked to admit. Especially with the end bowser being whatever caused their dad's disappearance - namely yellow-eyed son of a bitch - he knew he wouldn't have a shot, facing it alone.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by a now familiar voice coming from the hallway. He quickly hid the EMF-reader and stepped back into the corner of the room. He knew there was no way of making a clear exit with all the attendants having seen him enter, but that didn't mean he couldn't delay being discovered by Mr. gruff immediately.

„…just going for a walk."

„And you believe him?", a female voice asked.

„I don't know. He's been acting weird since this whole thing, understandably so, but.." There was a deep sigh as the two entered the room, facing the broken window, effectively passing Dean without seeing him. Yet. „Him being here could cause some serious trouble, if they accuse him of denying first aid*****, I mean he just bolted." There was another sigh. Both detectives had finished putting gloves on, still oblivious to their visitor who was listening to their conversation with interest.

_So the kid was there when the father took the swan dive. _He thought to himself. Like Sam, he was rethinking his earlier opinion on the boy, just this time for the worse. What were the odds of a guy being present for two deaths related to the supernatural within just days. And in the same area not to forget. Of course, that could just be bad look, something the Winchesters were _again _very familiar with. Or maybe, good cop Jameson wasn't all that good aft…

„What the hell are you doing here?!" _Here we go,_ Dean thought as he was barked at by the elder Reagan who seemed to have finally discovered him.

„Same as you." Dean stated simply, leaning lazily against the wall. „My job."

„Oh yeah? Does your job include snooping around other peoples crime scenes? Or were you just to bored to freak my brother out, so you thought you'd come and annoy me!" _Wow, that guy was angry._

„Trust me, buddy, we went easy on him in comparison to you." Dean said, being quickly fed up with the other guy's attitude.

„What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Danny asked, stepping closer threateningly.

„Nothing, just that you seem to have a rather short temper. I wouldn't want to face you in an interrogation room, Hulk."

„Okay that's enough, who are you?" Detective number 2, the pretty Latina, stepped in.

Immediately, Dean turned his gaze towards her and put on his famous flirty smile. „Could ask you the same thing, sugar." When she only answered with a hard glare, showing that she clearly knew how to handle his type, he relented and pulled out his fake badge. „Federal Marshal on a classified case. But I prefer Dean." He stretched out his hand, still smirking, yet she took it without a flinch.

„Detective Baez, major crimes. What can you tell us?"

„Not much." Dean answered, getting a little unsure of how to get out of this without causing any more suspicion than he already had. „Like I said, it's classified."

„But at least you can tell us, whether our cases are linked or not, cause if not, there really is no reason for you to be here." The lady continued, while her angry partner seemed to have cooled down to a mere threatening glare.

„It so happens, that I was about to leave." Dean said, making his way towards the exit.

„The building, or the city." Danny's voice made the other stop in his tracks and turn around. The hunter recognized a threat when he heard one and this sure seemed to be the start of one. „New Yorkers role a little different." The detective explained. „We don't like anyone else playing with our stuff, so unless you _really _need something for your case, you come to me first. And that goes for my case as well as for my brother."

And just like that Dean knew, that things could only get worse.

***I'm not an expert with laws, but I know that in Germany there can be legal consequences, when you deny someone first aid, meaning when it is proven that you could have helped a person but deliberately chose not to. It's not easy to prove, because you're not always obligated to apply first aid, like if you are responsible for a child in that moment, or if helping the other would put you in danger, or if you physically cannot help. For example, when you faint at the sight of blood, nobody can force you to help a bleeding person. Like I said, I'm not a law student or something so don't take my word for it, I just heard that in a first aid course…**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm really sorry for the long wait, I'm currently at home playing substitute teacher for my little sister on top of my own university stuff. And then of course I had a complete writer's block. Guess that's what happens when you don't plan a story in advance. So unfortunately I can't promise the updates coming any faster. I'll try my best though.**

**I DO NOT OWN ANY SUPERNATURAL/BLUE BLOODS CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES!**

**No Beta, all mistakes are mine.**

„This is bad." Sam said for at least the third time, pacing frantically through the tiny motel room.

„Sammy relax, a few weird looks at us doesn't mean the SWAT team is waiting outside already." Dean replied, sitting at his brothers laptop.

„I told you this was a bad idea, a whole family of cops, of course they can smell when someone lies."

„Well, we're not just someone, okay. We've been doing our job at least as long as they did theirs. They're not going to find out." Dean assured. „Even if they try to track our badges, WITSEC has some damn high clearance, it'll take them days. Enough time for us to wrap this up and leave."

„I'm not sure, Dean, you're face was on the news when you were wanted for murder, they might recognize you." Sam countered.

„Please! A crappy sketch photo from a closed case in California? I doubt they've seen that." Dean all but chuckled. Then he sighed, seeing that his brother wasn't convinced. „Look, I get it, New York isn't the greatest hunting place and this whole family isn't our usual witness pool, but whatever is happening here, they can't handle it." He paused, making sure Sam really paid attention. „We can't leave here until this is over, it's our job! So you gotta pull yourself together."

Slowly, Sam nodded. Dean was right. This wasn't the first time walking on thin ice for them. He had to keep a level head, because if they didn't hunt those things, than who would?

„Alright." He agreed, sitting down at the tiny table opposite to his brother. „What did you find out about the suicide?"

„Well, as expected, forensics didn't find any evidence of anyone being there besides the victim, but they don't have our tool kit." Dean said, looking smugly at his brother.

„EMF? So he really was haunted by his own kid?" Sam asked.

„Can't tell you that for sure, but the story makes sense." Dean replied. „But then, little baby boy didn't jump of that building alone…"

„The mother! You think she offed him?"

Dean shrugged. „According to the papers, she thought she was trapped in this life. Maybe she blamed him for that. Think we should burn 'em both? Make doubly sure?"

„Yeah maybe." Sam thought, his mind seemingly spaced out, as he thought. „Or maybe this is already over. If he was the primary target, either spirit should be at rest."

„I'm not sure, I mean we're talking gangs here." Dean countered. „I don't know much about them, but according to every movie I've seen, most of them are culprits, so she might be blaming the whole crew." He pointed out.

„Yeah, you're right, better safe then sorry." Sam agreed. „ Did you find out where she was buried?"

„Wasn't hard." He turned the laptop around for the other to see. „That detective guy caught our jumper during service. Chased him through half the city like Starsky and Hutch." Dean smirked. „Anyway, what did our wonder boy have to say?"

„Not much." Sam answered. „His grandfather interrupted us and from the looks of it we're no longer invited over there. but…" there he hesitated. „You were right, that kid is freaked. I don't think he's really evil."

„Don't make up your mind so fast though." Dean interrupted, causing Sam to frown. „I overheard his brother talking and he said the kid was present during the last suicide." At that Sam's frown grew deeper and he leaned back in his chair tensely. He knew what his brother was thinking about: Two deaths involving the supernatural! „There's no such thing as coincidence."

— — —

Danny Reagan was done. He was pumped, exhausted, pissed, freaked and just plain on tired. His patience had long ago reached its maximum, causing multiple questionable, less than nicely handled arrests accompanied by just as many reprimands of an equally impatient superior. The case was going nowhere, since no witnesses were willing to cooperate, no state attorney would take part in a suicide investigation and no cop dared to go back there. Meanwhile his Sergeant was one more mistreat away from suspending him, his partner could only take so much and his brother was burying himself in isolation and self-hatred. Just when he thought nothing else could make his day worse, those sneaky Marshalls were snooping around his family for no reason whatsoever. There was something off about these guys, he could feel it in his gut.

He sighed, leaning back in his desk chair, looking at the mess of files mimicking pretty accurately the jumble of thoughts currently speeding through his head. He needed a break. He needed to go home, see Linda, see his boys, have something remotely resembling a normal and peaceful life. Yet he knew, he wouldn't be able to relax. This whole ‚work stays at the office'-crap never worked. Never had and never would. He knew, no matter how hard he tried, the facts and leads and suspects would never leave his mind. Linda was an angel and his kids were the most precious gift in this world, but nothing could ever chase all those faces away. Noni's lifeless and hopeless expression as she lied in her own blood, the darkness of the night surrounding her. Her sisters disappointed, cold face showing the betrayal she felt after he failed to keep his promise. And then there was Jamie. Jamie's face was the worst. How he was standing there, looking haunted and disbelieving at his dead partners body, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to grasp what happened. He had stayed like this, looking at his blood-soaked hands the whole ride to the hospital. Nobody could get through to him, not him, not Erin, Dad, Grandpa, not even Renzulli. He just wouldn't budge. And now that he did, he still wasn't the same. Maybe never would be.

Danny knew, solving this case wouldn't bring Vinny back and it probably wouldn't give him his cheerfull baby brother back. But at least those who started this would pay.

„You just wait you little bastard, I'll get you one day!" He mumbled, still staring at his files, his prime suspect's picture peeking out just enough to recognize it.

„For your own sake, I sure hope you don't mean me!"

Startled, Danny turned around violently, almost falling back with his chair, and then preceded to glare at his sister angrily for startling him. She was waring her gray pants suit with her handbag over one shoulder, holding two cups of Starbucks-coffee in her hands.

„What are you doing here?" Danny snapped, not particularly pleased to be interrupted while internally cursing his life.

„Hello to you too, Daniel." The younger answered sarcastically, handing him his coffee and taking a seat in the chair next to his desk, designated for visitors. She noticed immediately how exhausted her big brother was and couldn't help but think how similar Jamie looked to him right now. They were both so tired and tense and plain on empty. It hurt her to even look at them. Her annoying yet brave but sometimes stupidly reckless brothers. „I was just in the area, thought I'd drop by, see if I could help somehow." She responded quite lamely.

As expected, Danny just looked at her with disbelief „yeah right", he sighed and threw his pen onto his desk in frustration. He knew exactly why Erin was here and as much as he appreciated her worry, he really didn't want to deal with her pity and concern right now. „There's nothing you can do, nothing new has come up, we don't have enough for a warrant or an arrest and you said it yourself, your boss won't budge. No hard evidence, no case, so…" he sighed again looking at the files in disgust, as if they were butchers tearing up people instead of animals. Next to him, he could feel his sister looking at her hands guiltily, like she used to when she was little and had to listen to one of dad's lectures about stealing and or destroying other peoples possessions. It was a rare occasion to see her truly ashamed about what she did. The first time he remembered, she had baked a whole set of power rangers action figures in their oven to get back at Danny after he hid her brand new set of dolls. Just that the figures didn't belong to Danny, but to his best friend Michael, so Erin had gotten quite the sermon from their parents. As for revenge Erin then got her dolls back in pieces, earning Danny pretty much the same punishment.

Yet today Erin shouldn't be looking guilty for anything. After the case moved from her desk to her bosses due to the possible personal attachment she had, she'd presented every single breadcrumb of evidence like a brick to him and tried to convince him to take the case to court but he'd refused every single time. Now she was on the verge of a forced vacation if she kept bugging him about it.

No, Erin had done as much as she could, no doubt, but at the same time, she felt like she'd left her other job behind. She had tried to talk to Jamie about what happened, lend him an open ear, but her baby brother was completely closed up. He barely said a word all day, everytime he did he usually snapped at people to leave him alone, he was always so angry and he obviously didn't sleep. She had seen this kind of behavior before, after Mum died, after Joe… It pained her to see him like that and she caught herself wishing he hadn't quit law. „I heard about the Diaz' suicide." She all but whispered, not knowing exactly what els to say. „I also heard Jamie was there."

At that Danny chuckled, although it sounded more like a growl. „Yeah, has that made the papers already?"

„Dad told me." Erin answered. „What did he say about it?"

„He said that he was just out there for a walk." Danny said annoyed, not trying to mask that he clearly didn't believe their little brother. „I don't know what's gotten into him…"

„Well his partner died for starters." Erin countered. „That's not something you just get over so easily…"

„And you don't think I know that?" Danny snapped, his temper overflowing again. Like everytime Vinny Cruz' death was even remotely mentioned, he felt like they were trying to blame him. Point out that he was the one who didn't protect Noni, he was the one that swore revenge, he was the one that started this war and pulled the whole NYPD in. As if he didn't already know what he started, as if he didn't count in the consequences, as if he didn't care… And he was about to throw all that anger that build up inside him, all that frustration and worry and disappointment and rage at his innocent little sister. The heat was rising into his head, he leaned forward as he did so often when he wanted people to really listen. „Don't you think that I know what that does to your mind." He started pointing at his head. „How it twists your thoughts replaying all that horror over and over again for you to watch EXACTLY what you could have done better?" He looked at Erin intently, already seeing her face take over an apologetic look, but he ignored it. „Don't you think if I'd had the chance, I'd spare my baby brother that trauma? Don't you think I would do anything to protect my only remaining brother?"

„REAGAN!" The bellowing sound of his sergeants voice interrupted the detective, who just now realized how loud he'd gotten. An uncomfortable silence settled in the bullpen, until Sergeant D. Anne Carver said in a much calmer, almost compassionate yet still commanding tone: „You're done for the day, go home and get some rest!" Her face was set, she wouldn't tolerate a discussion on this matter, but she knew if she didn't actually watch the man leave, he'd never, so she stayed in the doorframe, staring at him.

Being a Reagan, Danny of course opened his mouth to complain, when Maria Baez came up from behind, repeating the bosses words and assuring him that she had it covered. After all, there wasn't much to do at the moment. Reluctantly, Danny threw his files together in a nearly neat pile, before standing up and peeling his jacked of the back of the chair. Behind him, Erin send an apologetic look towards Baez, before following her brother.

Outside, she quickened her pace to keep up with his angry strike. It was obvious he didn't want to talk, but being just as stubborn, Erin wouldn't leave him alone before getting all the information she came for. Of course she could just ask Jamie, since she was mostly worried about him, but right now talking to Jamie was about as effective as talking to a wall, so she had to rely on second sources. Besides, she'd experienced some terrifying things in her life as well and knew that the last thing her kid brother wanted, was attention. She had talked to her father briefly on the phone, he too being covered up to his neck in work after all that's been happening. He'd filled her in a little bit, telling her Jamie was as usual, mainly locked in his room or the garage, saying he still didn't really talk about the incident and that he refused to admit that he didn't sleep well. Another trait they inherited from the Reagan side: No need for help, you just tough it out alone. It annoyed her to no end. Especially with the job they were all doing, they should know how important it was, no, what a privilege it was to share some pain, have some weight lifted of your shoulders and just knowing you're not alone. How come the one's that actually have that chance stubbornly refuse to use it.

„I heard Jamie was questioned again." She stated more than asked, already a little out of breath hurrying after Danny in those heels.

The older huffed. „Yeah some quys from WITSEC. Bad enough that the kid had to deal with IAB twice already and hasn't been cleared completely, now the Marshals Department is after him, too."

„I thought they were just interested in Vinny?" Erin asked.

„That's what they said, or more implied, but now I saw one of 'em snooping around the new crime scene. Claimed he just wanted to clear their case from ours, but I'm telling ya there's more to those guys."

„A gut instinct?" Erin said, slowing down since they had finally reached her car.

„You could call it that." He said opening the passenger side door for his sister to jump in. „Or just common people knowledge, there's no way those guys were any older than Jamie." He closed the door and quickly rounded the car to enter it himself.

„What are you doing?" Erin asked almost accusingly, her usual habitat when asking Danny that specific question. In all their talking she just now realized, that she wasn't sitting in the driver's seat.

As an answer Danny just grinned, snatching Erin's keys from her purse.

„Hey!" She tried to stop him, but he was too fast. „Oh no, you are not dragging me around playing Magnum PI and I'm the pretty girl." She yelled.

„What you don't think you're pretty? Jeez, what happened to your self-esteem, sis." Danny mocked, starting the engine, letting his little sister keep on nagging him while he drove off. There was no way, he was done for the day.


	7. Chapter 7

**I DO NOT OWN ANY SUPERNATURAL/BLUE BLOODS CHARACTER OR STORYLINES!**

**No Beta, all mistakes are mine.**

Jamie's day was anything but great. Wait, correction: Jamie's _days _were _crap. _For the last week everything he though about, everything his family and this whole god damn city were talking about was that case. That case that started out like any other and then turned into disaster. Every night he closed his eyes, just to be teleported back to the place were it all began, the very place that was meant to end more than one life. Needless to say that his sleep was anything but restless. And since he'd been commanded to stay at his dad's, his family of course knew of the less than pleasant state he was in. It annoyed him to no end that he could't hide it from them. Why couldn't he just crawl into his hole of an apartment, drown himself in whiskey and wallow in his own grief like a normal person. But no! Jamie Reagan wasn't allowed to grief alone, in fact, he wasn't allowed to be alone at all. Whenever he left his room, someone would be there. Whenever his grandfather wasn't there, which rarely happened these days, his dad would suddenly decide to work from home or Linda would come buy to bring everything for Sunday dinner. Even Nicky would suddenly pop up, claiming she could concentrate better on her homework without their distracting neighborhood. And then of course there were his siblings. Neither Danny nor Erin even tried to be subtle, they'd just barge in and either demand him to talk about it or cuddle him with useless ‚i know how you feel'-speeches. Those were all lies. They didn't know what he felt, they probably wouldn't if he told them, no! They certainly wouldn't if he told them. They'd straight on send him to the nuthouse, because what happened was beyond unbelievable, it was damn near blasphemic. What he saw, what he did, what he kept seeing every night. So he kept that part to himself. He'd been send to the department shrink, he'd told her everything up until the point were he himself just couldn't describe just what had happened. Just like he did, after Joe died. Almost two years later, same thing happening, he didn't have any more rational explanations than the last time. And the last time he did the big mistake of being too honest. He'd meant to tell them everything, but at the look in their faces, he just couldn't anymore. He'd been afraid, as he was now. What would they think of him, what would they do to him, if they knew? And so he silently vowed he'd take that secret to his grave. Like Vinny did with his secret about his dad. Well, his supposed secret according to the implications made by those marshals.

Vinny hadn't talked a lot about his dad in the year they drove together. He'd said a lot about his mum, since she raised him, but his dad… Jamie always assumed he never met him. Maybe he left, maybe he died, maybe he never knew he had a son. It was only at their first call to the Bitterman Complex that Vinny had mentioned him. „My old man was in a gang like that." He'd said. „In areas like those that's the only way you can survive. You either become one of them, or you become a victim." „But not you?", Jamie had asked. „Not me." He'd replied with that proud one-sided smirk of his. „I promised my mama that I wouldn't end up like him, that I wouldn't leave her for some crap like that." They'd just left the building, were they'd been called to stop some joker that played his music too loud. He'd probably turned the volume back up already, but their work was done. „I worked my ass of to get us both out of here and I wasn't planing on ever coming back." He'd said. „Don't worry," Jamie had said, clapping his partner's shoulder as they reached their cruiser. „I won't let it suck you back in." And they had laughed.

How foolish they had been. How foolish Jamie had been to make a promise like that and then let his best friend down. What kind of partner was he. It should have been him. It should have been him all along. Even when Joe died it should have been him to take the fall. The world was safer without him. He was the one that deserved…

„Jamie?" The young man looked up, as his Dad opened the door to his childhood room. He was still in his work clothes, having just arrived, the same worried look on his face, he'd been waring ever since he came to pick up his youngest from the hospital on that fateful day. Jamie could practically see the desire in his eyes to ask him again. _How are you doing son? How are you coping? Do you want to talk about it?_ It was always the same. But instead he went for the silent approach, hoping his son would come to him when the time was ready. Well he wouldn't. Hadn't the first time and wouldn't now.

„You're coming down for dinner?" The elder asked.

Jamie just shook his head, claiming he wasn't really hungry. It wasn't a lie, but when he said he'd go for a walk, he omitted the fact that he couldn't stand his families company right now. „I was thinking I'd go to St. Mary's, maybe talk to the priest if he's there." He said and his dad looked relived, thinking Jamie was finally moving on. He wasn't, but they didn't need to know that.

— — —

„Hmpf!" The Mexican gang boss grunted, as Detective Reagan threw him, anything but gently, against the door of the gray Mercedes. „Knew car?" He asked a little mockingly.

„It's a rental." Danny replied, feeling Erin's piercing stare in his neck. He knew she wouldn't agree to this arrest, hell she didn't even agree to tagging along. But she wouldn't say anything in front of the designated bad guy's, that would be like rabbit food for them. They would never let Danny hear the end of it and he'd loose the little respect he had among the inhabitants of this troublesome area. Of course Danny knew himself, that the accusations he'd made to drag that scumbags ass out of his pathetic apartment, denying him a shirt while he publicly arrested him, were fruitless, but with people like Santana, you just had to play it tough some times. And Danny was sure he wouldn't have to go through with it. Santana would try to wiggle out before he started driving and sooner or later, he'd give him something, because in times like those when a gang was slowly crumbling, the leader couldn't afford to leave for several hours of interrogation. Or days. He'd come back and be overruled, degraded to a foot man an the new leader would give Danny even more trouble, because he'd change strategies. No, Danny knew what he was doing was right. He knew it as soon as Santana's designated body guards came strolling behind. One was a short, half-bold guy babbling non-stop about how he was a lawyer and how he'd make Danny lose his badge for police brutality and intended false accusations and so on. Of course that nut job was quickly out_lawyered _by Erin, who, although he was probably right, managed to come back with responses, that guy couldn't really handle. Then there was this other guy, about as tall as Santana, dark hair, skinny, a constant pained expression on his face. But what really caught Danny's eye, was the stiff walk he had, as if his right leg was being weighed down by something. Danny had to contain a smirk. Of course Santana wouldn't wear a gun himself, baring the danger of being arrested for something as trivial as uncertified gun possession, but his footman…

„You have nothing against me." Santana finally spoke up, still pressed against the car, his back to Danny, who then turned him around. „I didn't do anything."

„Oh really?" Danny asked. „So my brothers partner was killed by what, a raindrop?" He quickly dragged the other off the car and to the left, then throwing him against one of the large rocks, separating that housing complex from the sideway. „Did you know Vincent Cruz grew up here? Did you know he still had a mother he took care off? Did you know" at that he crouched down to Santanas level. „that he bled out painfully form a bullet to his neck, right here?"

His words triggered a reaction. Not even men as tough as Santana were heartless. Danny knew he'd been to the same school with Vinny, like most of the people his age around here. He was a little older that the deceased officer, but he knew him. They'd lived in the same building for years, played on the same courts. Vinny was an outsider, but he was known. He was known as the guy who lost his father, as the guy who spoke more english than spanisch, as the guy who stood up for „the weirdo" Hector and most importantly, as the guy who was neither a member nor a victim. He'd managed to gain respect, learned how to defend himself and allegedly beat up a group of five who tried to force him into the gang. He'd worked two jobs during school and police academy so he could rent an apartment for himself and his mum in a better area and he wouldn't take crap from anybody for mocking his still living with her. Now she was alone. Danny had seen her at the funeral. She'd talked to Jamie briefly, but whatever she'd said, it managed to upset Jamie even more. He knew his kid brother blamed himself for his partner's death, hell who wouldn't. So maybe the attention he got, the praise, for running into the gunfire to save his partner, was simply too much to handle. He'd spend the rest of the day in his dad's garage, almost forcefully working on Joe's car, not answering any attempts at conversation made by the family. He didn't deserve to go through another trauma like that. And his partner didn't deserve to die.

Santana made subtle attempts to escape the place he was sitting, the place were someone died. His face had gone a shade whiter, just enough to notice and he swallowed several times before answering.

„I didn't do that." He claimed. „I didn't do it, I didn't even order that, I wasn't even there." He continued, yet Danny just kept staring. „I wasn't there, you can ask him." He pointed at his limping footman, who didn't waste a second to verify.

„He didn't do it! He was with me." Still Danny just stared. „Really you can check him for weapons, he doesn't have any." And with that it was done.

Danny' face turned into a twisted smirk as he slowly turned his head towards him. „Oh really?" He asked innocently. „And what about you?"

At that the man tensed, subconsciously taking a step back, knowing instantly he was doomed. „I … I don't have any." He claimed in a shaky voice.

„Would you mind verifying that?"

The guy closed his eyes in resignation, lifting his shirt to reveal a badly hidden glock, almost too big for his fragile figure. That man had undoubtedly no idea how to use that thing, so Danny doubted he could aim good enough to hit Vinny. But he had also no doubt, that the guy didn't have a license to carry this. Satisfied, Danny took Ricardo Soler into custody, letting Santana walk … for now.

As the gang leader and his lawyer headed back towards their building, the arrested safely cuffed and placed in the back of the temporary police car, Danny finally turned back to face his sister. His grin still wide seeing as his day turned out better. It may not be a big lead, but right now he'd take anything he got.

„You done now?" Erin asked annoyed. „You know he probably won't get you anywhere."

„Well, you gotta be patient sometimes, sis."

„Patience huh? I didn't even know you knew what that is." She said making her way to the passenger seat as her brother rounded the car. „Is that Jamie?" She suddenly said.

Danny stopped, turning around to see what his sister was looking at. And sure enough, there was his kid brother snooping around the one place he shouldn't right now.

„I don't believe it." he growled. „Stay here." He ordered Erin before making his way towards Jamie, who had yet to notice him. „HEY!"

Jamie jumped a little when he heard his older brother's voice, then he winced. He should have known Danny would be around during the day. He couldn't stand paperwork. He wondered however, why Erin was with him instead of Maria Baez. She looked at him a little concerned from afar, while Danny had his typical angry detective look on his face with a hint of annoyed older brother.

„What the hell are you doing here, kid? Trying to get into more trouble than you already are?" Danny said, having finally reached him.

„I didn't do anything." Jamie defended.

„Didn't do anything? Kid, you keep snooping around here like a junky waiting for his dealer. This is not your case, you're a witness and you should stay out of it a s much as possible. Now come on." The leader stated, trying to grab Jamie by his arm to get him to follow.

However Jamie, seeing his brother's hand approach jumped away quickly. His expression had turned from indifferent to terrified, as if Danny were trying to stab him. „What the hell." The elder whispered, then he tried to soften his tone. „I'm not trying to hurt you, Jamie."

Jamie looked up a little embarrassed. He hadn't meant to freak out like that, it was a reflex. „I know." He said, then he continued a little louder. „Just… Don't tell me what to do." He blurted, trying to get away.

A little perplexed, Danny followed. „Hey, hey wait a second, what…" He caught up, stopping Jamie in his tracks. „What's gotten into you, kid."

„Hum, let me guess, my partner got murdered and my awesome detective brother thinks babysitting me is more important that finding his killer." Jamie spat. His cheeks turning red in sudden anger. There was literally no place to go in this town where he could have a break from his overprotective family.

„Now hang on, you think I'm not doing my job right, mister know-it-all?" Danny fired back. „You think I'm driving around her for fun, not caring that my brother almost got killed by those scumbags? I'm working my ass of here, kid and you're not making it easy."

„Well then stop bothering me, okay. I'm not the one trying to get in your way, how 'bout you do the same." Again he tried to get away, but Danny wouldn't let him.

„All right, all right, hang on." He started. „Look, I know what you're going through, I know you're pissed and angry and you think you're the one who has to fix this, but trust me, you don't, alright. Nothing you do, nothing you find around here, will make this any better, you have to come to terms with this. Vine died and there's nothing you could have done, nothing more than you've already tried." He observed his brother's face, seeing him avoid eye contact, seeing the walls he tried so hard to keep up, hoping it would help. „Jamie you can't go through this alone, so let us help you. Let me help you."

„Help me?" Jamie said, than a chuckle escaped him as he turned his face towards Danny, fury evident in his eyes. „You think you can fix this with a band aid and a lollypop? You can't fix this Danny, so don't even try, alright. Just leave me alone and stay the hell out of my way. There's nothing you can do to help me. Nobody can." And with that he stormed off, leaving his brother stunned and even more concerned on the sidewalk of the place where it all began.


End file.
